


the facts were these,

by hotnerdcombeferre



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pushing Daisies Fusion, F/M, Fluff, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-11
Updated: 2018-08-11
Packaged: 2019-06-25 18:54:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15646866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hotnerdcombeferre/pseuds/hotnerdcombeferre
Summary: She was all of a sudden very away of her heart, pounding in her chest, almost painfully so. She swallowed staring up at him, feeling the need to look away but she simply couldn’t tear her eyes off him, not for a second, worried as though something might happen, which was silly (or was it? Perhaps one ought to take extra precaution around once-dead, now-alive childhood sweethearts who could be killed with a simple touch).--A Pushing Daisies AU I wrote to fight my writer's block, featuring Alice Fortescue as a girl who can bring dead things back to life, and Frank Longbottom as her once-dead, now-alive childhood sweetheart.





	the facts were these,

Alice Fortescue was not like other girls.

And no, not in that _annoying_ way young girls used to proudly label themselves, defying their womanhood in preference for seeming different and more interesting. Casting makeup and short skirts aside, demonizing the colour pink and everything it stood for. If you looked at her childhood you probably _could_ peg her for the type, but no, Alice Fortescue was adamant that she was a girl, despite her lack of traditional “girly things” in her childhood, and she would not be renouncing her gender, no ma’am. In reality, she did not refer to herself that way, it was the bloke sitting across from her at this very moment who did.

Theodore Tonks, Ted for short, Teddy when he was feeling flirty, was the sole keeper of Alice’s secret. The secret that brought the two of them together in their strange business partnership. The secret that made Alice in fact, not like other girls.

That secret being that Alice, could wake the dead.

Meeting Alice Fortescue had been one of the best things to happen to Ted Tonks. Ted, a loving husband and father who flourished in parenthood, did not have such good luck in his career as a private eye. Detective work was more difficult then diaper changing. Ted often lamented to his wife, “It would just be so much simpler if I could just _ask_ them who killed them.” This often got a good chuckle out of his wife, if only he could tell her now, the real reason he had such a good luck streak at work.

Alice Fortescue preferred a quiet life, though she certainly didn’t mind having Ted to confide in. Ted had brought quite a good light into her life as well, not only in the handsome rewards they often received for solving crimes, but the joy of friendship and the thrill of a bit of adventure. As a child, she’d always dreamed of being something exciting, like a police officer or fireman, though after discovering the ins and outs of her “secret” she slowly but steadily drew herself off from the rest of the world. She could pinpoint the moment exactly it had all gone south, from the days in her small hometown, at the age of nine.

She had only just discovered her ability to bring back things from the dead. Her father had found a small baby bird who had fallen out of its nest days prior. Together they cut open a milk carton, filled it with tissue and cotton and made the small bird a new home, attempting to nurse it back to health. It was the highlight of her day, waking up and running down to the kitchen, watching her father feed the small animal with an old eye dropper. That morning, however, she ran to the kitchen, not to find her father preparing the birds breakfast, but to a regretful “We did the best we could Al.”

Her father was enjoying his morning coffee at the breakfast table when Alice decided to exam the bird for herself. Standing on a stool, leaning over the kitchen counters she brought her face close to the milk carton, staring down at the lifeless bird. Mourning the loss of her dear bird, she gently brought her finger down to stroke the birds head, a warmth filling her finger like a spark, connecting to the bird, who instantly sprung back to life, fluffing the few feathers it had, and filled the kitchen with loud “peeps”, looking for its breakfast.

Her father rose from the kitchen table, almost alarmed because _he could have sworn-_ he’d even doubled checked it himself, willing the little bird to be alive, but he quickly at Alice’s request went to fetch the eyedropper. As her father fed the bird Alice watched intently, that bird had been dead, she knew that for a fact, she would have to further investigate later, in the meantime feeding the now alive bird was more important and quite frankly more exciting. Neither of the Fortescue’s noticing in the commotion a chipmunk dropping out of the tree a minute later.

After her own breakfast, she went across the way for a scheduled playdate with her neighbour, the boy, who at the time she just so happened to be in love with. His name was Frank Longbottom, he had just turned ten that spring which had been quite the achievement. Their summers were spent in Alice’s backyard playing detective or superheroes (Frank had always wanted to be either one of those, or both, Alice decided she did too), or in Frank’s front lawn watching the clouds as his father tended to their garden. The Longbottom’s had quite the fit garden, Mr. Longbottom having quite the green thumb.

Today was a cloud watching kind of day, lying on the Longbottom’s lush green grass, staring up at the sky, though young Alice felt she had the best few of all. Glancing at the boy laying in the grass next to her, she could feel her heart flutter as he pointed out fluffy clouds shaped like dinosaurs or bumblebees. He smiled brightly at her, their eyes meeting and lingering for a moment before his father began spraying at them with the garden house that made them both squeal with delight, quickly jumping up to defend themselves from the attack.

When her own father arrived to collect her from across the street he tutted fondly at the disarray she was in. The back of her shirt and shorts completely covered in dirt and her front soaking wet, her face spattered with mud. He had her go and change as he prepared an afternoon snack for her. Alice throwing on a nearly identical tee-shirt and shorts combo, too eager for her cheese and crackers to put any real effort into cleaning up. When she arrived back in the kitchen her father tutted again, it was a common sound for him, as he grabbed a washcloth and began dabbing at her face and hands which made her giggle. It was at that moment exactly, a blood vessel in her father’s brain burst, and he slumped onto to floor, dead on arrival.

In a state like shock, Alice fell silent, staring at her father, the only sounds in the kitchen now were the busy peeps of the baby bird and the sounds of Frank laughing with his father from across the street through the open window. She stood absolutely still at her father’s feet, glancing out the kitchen window to across the street where Frank and Mr. Longbottom were, still out in the yard mucking about, Mr. Longbottom occasionally splashing Frank with the hose. In hindsight, perhaps going for help would have been the smarter option, instead, she reached out hesitantly towards her father’s exposed ankle, because perhaps if it worked with thr bird- she was sure to avoid the hairy part of his calf she never liked the texture of his hairy legs. She lightly touched her father’s ankle, the spark hitting her fingers again filling them with a warmth that spread to her father’s leg. He sat up quickly, his hand moving to his head but just lightly brushing it.

“Did I trip?” He asked, Alice, not knowing how to respond, her father shrugging it off and standing, “What kind of cheese would you like today, cheddar or marble?” He asked going to the fridge.

Alice moved herself to the kitchen table, a bit out of it after what had just happened. He eyes wandered to across the street for a moment to Frank playing in his front yard, it calmed her, everything was just fine.

“Marble or cheddar Al?” Her father asked again from the fridge.

Alice looked to her father, “Cheddar.” She said confidently.

Her father began preparing her afternoon snack, slicing the cheese, they giggled to each other in conversation for a moment until it naturally died off, the kitchen had gone quiet, a bit too quiet. The bird had settled down but the noise from across the street had died down as well. If she had been more attentive, more invested in her love of Frank Longbottom then her love of cheddar cheese, she might had seen it before she had heard it. A piercing distressed cry broke through the silence of the kitchen, Frank calling out to his father, both of the Fortescue’s head’s snapping towards the kitchen window to see what was going on.

At first, it seemed Mr. Longbottom had decided to watch the clouds as well. However, the still running hose in his limp hand said otherwise. Her own father quickly put down the knife he had been slicing the cheese with, not sparing a look to his daughter as he called out “Stay here Al.” as he ran for the door, racing across the street.

This was the first lesson she learned about her ability. Alice Fortescue learned that she could only bring back the dead for one minute without consequences, any longer, and someone else had to die, so was the way of thr universe, balancing out itself. The second lesson she would learn rather unfortunately, later that night.

That night a car came to take Frank Longbottom away. Alice frowned watching from her bedroom window as her dear love was ushered into a shiny blue car, with his only his backpack and teddy. She heard her own door creak open and she rushed to her bed. She crawled under the sheets as her father moved to plug in her nightlight.

“Don’t fret Al, it’ll be a brighter tomorrow.”

Her father leaned over her bed, planting a soft kiss on her forehead. Alice felt the spark come and go from her father’s lips before she could process it. He instantly grew rigid, collapsing backwards onto her bedroom floor.

Alice threw off the covers, quickly crouching next to her father curious at what had happened now. Clumsy Dad, did he bonk his head? She only hesitated for a moment this time, poking his forehead gently, waiting for him to sit back and re-tuck her into bed. She waited a moment but nothing happened. She poked him again firmly this time. Nothing. She poked his nose, chin, neck chest, but to no avail. This was the second lesson she learned. First touch life, second touch dead again, forever.

Her hometown was a small one, Mr. Longbottom and Mr. Fortescue’s funerals were held on the same day, at the same graveyard, on the same grassy hill, under the same shade of the same broad oak tree.

Alice stood with her mother, who had been so broken over her husband’s death she shed no tears, Alice followed suit. Frank, on the other side of the tree by his own father’s grave, sniffed away his tears, standing with his mother, who was dressed in peculiar funeral wear that Alice figured was much too hot for the summer heat they were in.

Under the same shade of the same broad oak tree, her father was buried under, Alice Fortescue shared her first kiss with Frank Longbottom, filled with grief and hormones.

Due to her unique ability that made her “not like other girls” she avoided any real social connections, scared of herself and what she might do if someone she loved died. Soon after her father’s funeral, her mother so burdened with grief would send her away to a preparatory school where she was careful to make few friends, and stayed in contact with a total of zero after graduation. She was fine to live in solitude, she had herself and her bird, that was all she needed, finding work had been a bit of a struggle, until she met Ted by simply being in the right place at the wrong time, an unfortunate car chase ending in an unfortunate car accident just outside of Alice’s apartment led to Ted’s discovery of her secret.

He was more then intrigued when he saw her ability, he was _fascinated._ The wheels were already turning in his head on the things they could _do._ After one very successful test run consisting of a gruesome murder of a rich bachelor paid for by a grieving mother (the mother did it), Ted offered Alice a partnership at his private detective agency. She was a detective the way she once dreamed of as a child, though not really in the way she’d prefer to be. In her moments of doubt Ted would reassure her that what she had was a superpower, though she didn’t prefer to call it that. Superpowers were for superheroes, and there wasn’t much heroism in waking the dead, asking who killed them, putting them back to “sleep” and walking off to collect the reward.

But that was her life. And she got used to it. It was an easy routine and Alice had nothing against routines, they were _normal_. Though of course, nothing in Alice’s life could stay normal long.

When Ted brought a case to her of a young man murdered on a cruise ship that was from her hometown she probably should have refused. It was a small town, everybody knew everybody, it was probably too personal. But something drew her to it. She’d say that it was the large reward posted for the solving of the murder that settled her on taking the case, though in reality she had made up her mind before Ted had even told her the price, no it was when he told her the name of the victim. Frank Longbottom.

The drive to her hometown made her stomach churn, she hadn’t been there since she had been sent away to school, since her father’s death, but she thought of home all the time. She thought of her dear father, her poor mother, and Frank. She thought about him more then she’d like to admit.

“Do you know this guy?” Ted asked carefully.

“I knew of him, you sort of know everyone in small towns like these.” Alice replied.

They arrived at the local funeral home, in the back of her mind she noted it was the same that both her and Frank’s father had been prepared in. The funeral director was a larger man, Dolohov by name. Ted slide him a bill and Dolohov passed him the key to the room that Frank Longbottom was lying in.

Alice swallowed as Ted turned the key in the lock, quickly speaking up “Would you mind if I went in alone?”

Ted looked at her, “You have some personal business?”

“Yes- I mean no.” Alice said, “Maybe, just, I’ve got something I’d like to say is all.”

Ted gave her a look, one that spoke of wariness but he relented, “Just, remember to ask him who killed him.” He said.

Alice nodded as Ted opened the door, she slowly entered eyeing the elegant coffin, the wood carved with intricate designs which in Alice’s opinion was a bit much. Ted closed the door behind her, reminding her where she was and she approached the coffin, gently opening it her breath catching in her throat as she looked down at the boy she once knew. His features had matured but he still was the same Frank. His long lashes kissing his cheeks, his mop of floppy hair that looked as though there was a weak attempt to tame it. His lips, the same lips she had felt so long ago. He wore a black suit with a black tie, his white button up pristine.

She looked at this boy who wasn’t really a boy anymore and by all means she certainly wasn’t a girl either. All this time she wondered what he grew up to be and here he was, laying still in front of her. She moved gently to touch him, taking the utmost care. Her fingers hesitating over his lips before deciding on his cheek instead. The warm spark danced from her finger to his cheek and his eyes fluttered open with a gasp. He immediately threw his hands up Alice diving out of the way to avoid being touched.

He flung himself out of his coffin quite ungracefully, reaching for the nearest object that happened to be a handful of a flower arrangement. He pointed them towards Alice in defense though the “weapon” in his hand made it quite unthreatening, “Who are you?” He demanded.

Alice put her hands up in defence despite it being quite unnecessary given that flowers didn’t commonly do her much harm, “Alice Fortescue, I lived across the street from you when we were young, before your father- our fathers-” She managed quickly before she cut herself off, from both the pain of saying what had happened out loud and the fact that Frank’s eyes- his beautiful eyes, had lit up with recognition.

“Al.” He said breathless, lowering the flowers to his side.

She nodded, feeling a wave of nostalgia, no one had called her Al since before prep school. No one but Frank and her father.

“Oh my god, how are you?” He beamed as he quickly moving towards her, stopping when Alice moved away.

“Great, um, do you know what’s happening right now?” She asked carefully taking in their surroundings, which she wasn’t sure Frank had done yet. A coffin, the flowers, a fancy portrait of him it was quite clear what was going on, though she could imagine that someone taking in their own funeral service would be quite disorienting.

He shook his head, “I had this insane dream, I was on a ship and someone strangled me with a plastic sack.”

Alice hesitated his dream familiar from the file she read on his case, trying to find an easier way to put it, “You were,” she searched for the right words, “strangled to death by a plastic sack.” _Shit._

“Oh.” Frank said a bit deflated, “So it wasn’t a dream.”

“No, I’m afraid not.” Alice said uncomfortably, “And we only have a minute, literally, well even less now.”

“A minute?” Frank asked, “What am I supposed to do with that?” He asked hypothetically, a bit dejected.

“You could tell me who killed you, for starters.” Alice offered, “You know, so we can find them and well,” She trailed off.

He sighed, “That’s sweet but I don’t know who killed me. I was leaning over the side of the boat, you know Titanic style except without anyone behind me so I guess not really Titanic style, but then I suppose it _was_ Titanic style because all of a sudden there _was_ someone behind me, except they were shoving my face into a plastic sack." He said with a bit of a frown before he paused, the with a smile, "And then you touched my cheek.”  

Alice frowned this was not good news, there was a hushed knock on the door alarming both Alice and the once-dead, now-alive man standing across the room from her, “Just a minute!” Alice called, hoping that it was Ted instead of the the funeral director or some random passerby who happened to enjoy perusing funeral homes as a hobby.

Frank frowned, “Is my time up?” He asked quietly.

Alice frowned back at him, “I’m sorry.” She managed but her heart was caught in her throat, it was all she could say and even then it came out practically a whisper.

“Don’t be,” He said, she could feel he was genuine, god this hurt more then she had anticipated, “Thank you, for trying to serve some justice on my behalf.”

“We used to play detective,” Alice said letting her mouth run ahead of her without thinking, “I used to want to be one when I grew up.”

“Me too,” Frank said carefully closing some of the distance between them, taking Alice not darting back as a sign it was okay, “And now you _are_ one isn’t that grand?”

It was grand.

“You were my first kiss.” Alice all of a sudden found herself saying. She bit her tongue, worried that that was an _odd_ thing to say to a man she hadn’t seen in sixteen years, and god, had it really been _sixteen years_ since she’d seen the boy who had held her affections all this time? However Frank’s perfect smile didn’t waver, and he looked down almost bashfully.

“Yeah?” He asked meeting her eye, “You were mine.”

She was all of a sudden very away of her heart, pounding in her chest, almost painfully so. She swallowed staring up at him, feeling the need to look away but she simply couldn’t tear her eyes off him, not for a second, worried as though _something_ might happen, which was silly (or was it? Perhaps one ought to take extra precaution around once-dead, now-alive childhood sweethearts who could be killed with a simple touch).

“Would you be my last?” The now-alive, soon-to-be dead man asked before quickly catching what he had just said, “Unless that’s weird, I’m sorry I just-”

“It’s not weird!” Alice quickly interjected perhaps a bit too quickly, “It’s not weird at all, it’s- it’s magical.” She said quietly, with a small smile.

Frank beamed at that, and slowly closed the rest of the distance between them, careful though not to touch her. He took in her face, Alice Fortescue, the girl he loved but never ever anticipated he’d see again but was he glad he did, glad that her face would be the last he’d see. He leaned in, gently closing his eyes, Alice watched the soon-to-be dead man with pain in her heart, but leaned in to meet his lips. Stopping just short of his nose, she could feel his breath on her cheek, but she couldn’t will herself to move any closer.

She didn’t need to check her watch to know that his time had run out, she didn’t let herself think of the consequences of what she had just done, or rather _not_ done.

Frank blissfully unaware opened his eyes, looking a bit sheepish but made no move to put any distance between them, “If you don’t want to kiss me it’s alright, I just thought-”

“No I want to, I do.” Alice murmured, completely captured by his eyes but had the right mind to pull away as Frank moved closer to her, not too far away though of course. She couldn’t pull herself from his eyes, her mind had yet to catch up to her mouth as she glanced at his lips, “What if you didn’t have to be dead?”

Frank blinked thinking about it, “Well, I mean, that would be preferable.”

And that was enough to decide it for Alice. Her once-dead, now-alive, soon-to-be dead again man, would no longer be soon to be dead. The wheels in her head instantly started turning on how she could possibly sneak the once-dead, now to remain indefinitely-alive man out of here without anyone noticing.

“No one can know.” Alice warned as she brainstormed. Her eyes fell on the coffin, and he already seemed to catch her idea, quickly walking over climbing back from once he came.

“Did you pick this?” Alice asked holding the lid open as he got settled.

“Do you _really_ think I picked my own coffin? Let alone _this_ thing.” Frank said giving her a look gesturing to the overdramatic log he was sitting in, “Obviously it was my mum.”

“You have to be absolutely still.”

“I can manage that.” He said leaning back, crossing his arms over his chest as he flashed her that gorgeous smile, the smile that had not changed since they were nine and ten years old, the smile that so endeared her to him.

She wanted to take his hand and run, run as far as they could out of this funeral home out of their small town. She had to contain the impulse to grab his hand and do so, finding it extremely difficult when he smiled at her, that smile she knew so well.

His eyes crinkled up at her- god those eyes, and he winked, “Parting is such sweet sorrow.” and all she wants to do is lean down and kiss those perfect lips. She lowered the coffin lid remorsefully, the only thing keeping her from throwing open the lid and climbing in next to him, just to stare into those eyes a little bit longer was the fact that she would be back soon to sneak him out (and perhaps that if she did in fact climb into the coffin next to him it would probably kill him).

She gently closed the lid of the overly fancy, slightly tacky, coffin. He certainly was right.

Parting was such _sweet_ sorrow.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm in love with pushing daisies, i re-binged it the other night and i couldn't stop thinking about these two in these roles so i banged this one out (excuse all the spelling and grammatical errors)  
> if i'm honest i totally envision them the other way around (frank as ned and alice as chuck), but i really wanted to practice writing more alice centric things! (also you can't tell me that augusta longbottom wouldn't be the absolutely mental woman grieving her son locked away in her house with a bunch of birds and fancy cheeses)  
> lol also me trying to tag this fic was my nightmare, and i quite frankly just gave up. full on. no one will ever read this, it has 3 tags, rip me.  
> i might do a chapter 2, but for now this fic is finished where it is!  
> \--  
> also my pin board for this fic ! https://www.pinterest.ca/hotnerdcombeferre/the-facts-were-these/


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